


Fierce

by fleurlb



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Character Study, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-19 21:57:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9461900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurlb/pseuds/fleurlb





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [downjune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/downjune/gifts).



“Where are the scissors?” asked Baze as he scanned the crowded shelf above the sink.

“I traded them,” replied Chirrut, who was leaning in the doorway. Baze turned around and was met by a cheeky grin.

“You traded them,” repeated Baze as he turned back to the sink and sighed. He looked at his reflection in the cracked mirror and saw that his hair, although relatively short, already looked unkempt and disheveled.

“If you grow your hair out, you'll look more fierce,” said Chirrut.

Baze's chuckle was short and sharp. “You're going to tell me how it will look.”

Baze turned around and found that Chirrut had soundlessly stepped right behind him. He felt Chirrut's arms around him and tried to hold on to his annoyance.

“It will look quite fierce. _You_ will look quite fierce.” Chirrut ran his hands up over Baze's back and then into his hair. His fingers massaged for several distracting minutes before they tangled into two sharp fists. He pulled Baze's head down and kissed him on the lips once, a soft, gentle tease of a kiss.

They stood for a long moment, bodies touching but lips separated by mere millimeters. They stood, suspended in a delicate negotiation that had no words, a practiced diplomacy honed over years of being together. Baze let his annoyance go, trusting that Chirrut had a plan and a reason for trading such a valuable tool.

Chirrut pulled Baze to him again. This time, his kiss was deep and warm. It was the kind of kiss that reminded Baze of their earlier days, when everything was simpler and it had seemed like every door was open. It was a kiss from before his days of weary bones and ears that constantly pounded with the heavy treads of Imperial walkers.

Chirrut loosened his grip and pulled back, and Baze found that he missed the pressure on his hair.

“Fierce is good,” Baze said, his voice a throaty rumble. “And the longer hair will give you something to hold onto.”

Chirrut's smile was equal parts relief and need. His next kiss was the kind that made Baze forget everything. It wasn't until later, when they were about to fall asleep, that he remembered he hadn't asked the obvious question.

“What did you trade my scissors for?”

“A blaster cannon. It also will make you look fierce.”

/the end/


End file.
